Scatter the Sky With My Blazing Heart
by deedee920
Summary: A Sam/Andy holiday ONE SHOT inspired by Canada Day/ Independence Day. Hope you enjoy!


_**A/N:**_** In my mind, this takes place a little after 4.03. Judging from the first three episodes, I think we are in for a wild ride this season! **

*** I want to say thank you to any and all who nominated my fics for the 2013 Rookie Choice Awards. It really means a lot to be nominated, especially to be among such great company. Don't forget to vote ;)**

**** Speaking of great company, a HUGE thanks goes out to Margie311 and Rookiebluefan89 for all of their help with this one. It probably wouldn't have made much sense without them. **

_**Disclaimer: **_** These fics are the closest I'll ever come to being affiliated with Rookie Blue.**

* * *

Sam looked at his watch and ran a hand across his face, pausing to rub at his eyes. He enjoyed being a detective, he really did. It was a good, stable position. He'd be lying though, if he said that he didn't miss the excitement and action out on the streets a little bit; even if it meant his partner getting him shot at every once in a while. He pushed away from his desk and stood up, stretching out his back before leaving his office and starting down the hall to the kitchen area.

It had been a long shift. Canada Day was always notoriously busy with a seemingly never-ending stream of illegal firework vendors, domestic squabbles and drunk drivers. Honestly, after a full day of dealing with idiot after idiot, Sam couldn't wait to get out of there and just unwind a bit. Maybe he'd even try to do something different, something special. It was a holiday, after all.

He stood at the counter, weighing the pros and cons of a cup of coffee versus tea. Coffee always hit the spot. It was bold and flavorful and he couldn't help but crave it. But tea was good too. While, he'd never really been a tea drinker before, he'd learned to develop a taste for it over the past few months. It wasn't as bad as he'd made it out to be in his mind. It was simple and refreshing and probably even better for him. Just as he was about to reach for a bag of herbal mint, he heard a familiar voice call out to him from the doorway.

"Hey, you about ready to get out of here?" Marlo asked, sounding hopeful. After a day of riding around with Price, she probably couldn't wait to get out of there, either.

Sam swiveled his head to smile at her, and decided to grab a coffee pod instead. He shoved it in the machine and his cup under the dispenser, and turned to fully face her, noticing that she was dressed in normal clothes, obviously finished with her shift. "I can't yet," he replied. "I'm still waiting on Shaw to bring in one last perp before I can even think about it." He shot her an apologetic smile, and reached back for the cup, bringing it up to his lips for a quick taste.

"Why can't Nash handle it?" she questioned. Sam noticed her body tense a bit with the question. He wasn't sure why she seemed to be getting her back up about it.

"I sent her home, told her to enjoy the night with her kid." Sam shrugged.

"So you volunteered to wait?" Marlo obviously felt the need to clarify, "for _Shaw_?"

Ah, there it was. Sam wasn't stupid. He knew that _she_ knew that McNally was Shaw's partner for the day. He also knew the real question behind her slightly accusing tone, the one that she wasn't asking. "I'm waiting for the _suspect_," Sam stated clearly and slowly, emphasizing each word. "It's kind of my job."

"Okay. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow then," she snapped, her braid whipping around as she turned away from him.

Things had been a little strained between them since McNally's gotten back from the taskforce; even more so since the two were partnered together a few weeks back. He wasn't exactly sure where Marlo's head was at lately, or his own, if he were being honest, but he didn't want her to be upset– she hadn't done anything wrong.

"Marlo, wait." Sam set his mug down, reached out to grab her arm and swung her back around to face him. "I'll make it quick," he promised, "An hour tops, okay?"

"Okay," Marlo agreed, relaxing a little. She exhaled and repeated herself, more certain. "Okay." She stretched up onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. "See you in a bit."

Sam frowned as he watched her walk away. Marlo really _was_ great, and this thing between them was usually easy, or at least it had started off that way. He wasn't sure if the shift in the laid-back flow was because of him or her, but he could feel something changing, something that left him with an uneasy feeling in his gut. The break room of the station really wasn't the place to ponder any of that though, so he once again grabbed his cup and headed toward the bullpen.

* * *

"Tell me this is an easy one," Sam half pleaded once he met up with McNally and Shaw outside of the interrogation room.

"It's your lucky night, brother," Oliver confirmed, slapping him on the shoulder. "The guy started singing before we even slapped the cuffs on him. Right, McNally?"

"Yep," she agreed, looking at anything but Sam.

"Great,' Sam replied, relieved. "I need to get out of here."

"Big plans?" McNally asked snidely.

Sam's eyebrows shot up, shocked at the ill-disguised derision he heard in her voice. What was it with the women in his life today? "Not really," he replied, watching her face contort, probably chastising herself for even asking. "You?"

"Oh, yeah, huge plans," she snickered lightly, recovering. "Only ten more hours of hauling in drunken jerks."

"Working a double on Canada Day?" Sam questioned, a little surprised. Holiday shifts were hard; no one in their right mind signed up for two in a row.

She smiled small, a wistful turn of her lips, quick and gone. "Well, some people want to spend time with their families. Loved ones," she added, shrugging a shoulder. She lowered her eyes to the clipboard in her hand, as her words rang loudly between them. Another moment passed before she abruptly turned to Oliver. "You've got this, right?"

When Oliver confirmed that he was fine, McNally turned and headed down the hall. She lifted her hand in a final wave over her shoulder, bidding them a good night without once turning around. For the second time in a handful of minutes, Sam watched a beautiful woman walk away from him, not entirely pleased. His eyes followed her retreat for as long as they could before catching the disapproving glare that Oliver was throwing his way. He seemed to be giving Sam a lot of those looks lately.

* * *

He was a few minutes late when he pulled up in front of Marlo's brick apartment building. Sam had spent the time during the drive over trying to think of something to make up for their little tiff earlier, something that a good boyfriend would do to make her happy. This wasn't exactly his forte, but he was trying. He'd learned the hard way, what not putting in the effort would get him, _or not get him_, he thought dismally.

He knocked on the door and heard her call out for him to let himself in. He found her in the kitchen standing over the sink rinsing a glass in her hand. She appeared to be freshly showered with her damp hair and bare feet, wearing jeans and a tank top.

"Hey," she greeted him, smiling over her shoulder. "I'm just finishing up. Want to watch some TV or just go straight to bed?" she asked, turning off the faucet and drying her hands on a nearby dishtowel.

"Actually," Sam began, as he walked over to her and pulled her to him, "If you're up for it, I thought we might go down to Lastman Square."

Marlo pulled back slightly and looked up at him, confused. "For what?"

"To relax, watch the fireworks," Sam answered with an easy smile.

Marlo leaned back, her arms still looped behind his back and let out a laugh. When Sam didn't laugh along, he saw her eyebrows pull together. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Sam replied, drawing out the word. "I thought it would be nice. Some would even say… romantic."

"Romantic" Marlo repeated slowly, letting her wide eyes wander somewhere over his shoulder. "Well," she shook her head, "_I _am not one of those people. I hate fireworks. As beautiful as they are, they're loud and annoying, intrusive and disruptive…"

"Yeah, but in a good way," Sam interrupted her. "I like them. I think they're pretty. They add a certain something, a little excitement that gets your heart going." Sam snapped his mouth shut, surprised and somewhat confused by his own outburst and the onslaught of annoyance he suddenly felt. He's never really cared about fireworks one way or the other before, why was he making such a big deal about them now?

Marlo narrowed her eyes curiously, probably wondering the same thing. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about them." She untangled her arms from around him and shuffled back a step, poking him in the ribs once when she asked, "And since when do we do the 'romance' thing?"

Sam exhaled and willed himself to relax. He was being ridiculous with his insistence. It had just been a long day, that was the problem, he told himself. "I just thought it would be nice," he answered, shaking his head at his own convoluted thoughts. "Forget I mentioned it."

They stood there, somewhat awkwardly, Marlo looking at him like he was some sort of puzzle that she was trying to piece together in her head. A weird tension filled the air between them, and it seemed like an eternity before she finally spoke.

"Listen, Sam… I think we need to talk." She stepped back and used her arm to motion him toward the couch. When they were both situated, she continued. "I thought that we were on the same page here." Sam furrowed his brow, wordlessly urging her to go on. "You know… easy, casual, fun, no strings…"

"Yeah…" Sam said immediately, but was quickly cut off.

"No," Marlo said sharply, "I think, maybe, you and I want different things here."

"Why? Because I wanted to see the display?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I think it's _more_ than that," Marlo said sharply. Then softer, she added, "And I think you know that." Sam smiled mirthlessly and opened his mouth to protest, but the words refused to come out. "Let's just take a step back from this whole thing," she suggested.

"You don't want to be with me?" Sam asked, the words practically flying out of his mouth in surprise. Never in a million years would he have called this when preparing for his drive over.

It took her a moment; he could see her searching for the words, before she finally ducked her head a little and dropped her eyes. "That's not what I said. This isn't about what _I_ want." She blew out a deep breath. "Look, just take some time to cool off and figure out what exactly _you_ want." He could've sworn her heard her add under her breath, "_Who_ you want."

It was getting late. It was late, and Sam was tired. Exhausted. Of all of this. He wasn't sure if Marlo was pulling away, or just giving him an out, but he simply didn't have it in him to figure it out right then. He brushed his hands over his thighs and stood up. He wasn't going to beg, and there was no point in arguing; she was probably right. Whatever they had was good while it lasted, but now it was over, and they both knew it. "Okay, then," he said, bobbing his head once in agreement.

From the same position on the couch, Marlo grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, mustering up a wry smile. "See you around, Swarek."

He gave a light squeeze back before heading to the door. He nodded again, still feeling a little shell- shocked. "Yeah, see you."

As he drove home, Sam caught himself, more than once, gazing up through the windshield to catch a flash of a light blazing across the sky. With a sigh, and a sense of longing that he couldn't place, he turned onto his street. As he crawled into bed alone, just before midnight, he gave up trying to make sense of the conflicting feelings of relief and yearning that he felt inside his chest.

* * *

Two days later, and Sam had the feeling that the whole division already knew. He could feel Traci's eyes on him from across the conjoined desks, as he tried to read over the file in his hand for the third time. Each time that he glanced her way, she quickly averted her eyes.

"You okay, Nash?" Sam asked a little rougher than he meant to, "Something you need from me?"

"No, nope, nothing," Traci tried and failed at sounding nonchalant.

"If there's something you want to ask me, just spit it out." Sam requested, trying to keep his tone level.

"Are _you_ okay?" Traci eyed him cautiously. "Anything that _you_ need?"

Yeah, she knew, Sam thought. She totally knew. Sam slapped the file onto his desk, brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and briefly hung his head while he let out a frustrated breath. Sam really hated when his private life was suddenly front page news. He knew that telling Oliver about the spilt over drinks at _The Penny_ the night before had been a bad idea. Some idiot with nothing better to do than gossip had probably overheard them. _Probably Epstein_, Sam thought as he caught sight of him across the room talking to Diaz, miming a gun with his thumb and forefinger, blowing imaginary smoke from the tip of his index finger. _Dumbass_.

"You heard?" he guessed, bringing his head back up to meet her eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Traci admitted quietly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Sam assured her, and meant it. Well, at least about the break-up they were currently speaking about.

"Okay." Traci smiled at him genuinely; it seemed that she believed him.

"I need a coffee," Sam declared as he quickly stood. "Do you want anything?" When Traci shook her head in the negative, Sam began to open the door, but hesitated. He looked back at his partner, who seemed to finally focus on her work, and deliberated whether or not to ask. Finally, he cleared his throat, which caused her to look up at him. "Does, uh… _everyone_ know?"

Traci looked at him knowingly and smiled wide. "Yeah," she confirmed. "Good news always travels fast around here," she added, attempting a little tongue- in- cheek.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. Just before he stepped out of the office, he heard Traci remind him that shifts were back to normal the next day, meaning that he'd most likely run into Andy. He wasn't quite sure what that information meant to him, if it should mean anything to him, or if it would mean anything at all to her, after all this time.

* * *

Strangely enough, he didn't see Andy the next day until shift was nearly over. She and Peck had managed to bring in a suspect that Sam had been looking to question for a while. The guy had lawyered up immediately, so they stood in the observation room, and discussed how to best go about questioning him while they waited for the public defender.

"Uh, thanks… for your help," Sam stuttered, once they were done.

"Yeah, no problem." Andy nodded and turned to head for the door.

"Hey, hey, wait," Sam said, as he reached out to touch her arm. He let his hand drop immediately when she turned back to face him. "Hey, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay…" Andy replied cautiously. He swore he saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but she blinked, and it was gone.

"Uhh..." Sam mumbled, not really sure where to begin. When he didn't answer right away, she just kept right on talking. "It's alright. You don't have to… I heard, so…"

"That's not-"

"No?"

"Not really… Listen-" Just as he thought of what he wanted to say, the door swung open.

"The lawyer's here,' Gail announced. She gave them a strange look before turning on her heel in the direction that she came from.

Andy looked at Sam expectantly, but there was no way he was going to talk to her right then and there. "Not here," he decided. "Your shift is over after this, right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why?"

Sam looked heavenward, as if looking for divine intervention, and opened his mouth before closing it again. He huffed out a frustrated breath and tried again, nearly laughing at how ridiculous he was feeling. "Would you take a drive with me, McNally?"

"A drive?" She flashed him a brief but brilliant smile. "Sure," she agreed almost shyly, "Yeah. I think I could do that."

He nearly laughed out loud from the instantaneous relief that he felt. "Great," Sam said as he walked out of the viewing room. "I'll meet you at the truck in a little while then." He was pretty sure she laughed at him a bit, too.

* * *

"So," Andy asked as she climbed up into the passenger's seat, "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Nope," Sam replied simply as he turned the key in the ignition. He smiled when he heard her sigh; he knew how much she hated surprises.

"Okay then," Andy relented as she clicked the seatbelt into place and settled back against the grey leather.

"That's it?" Sam asked disbelievingly, his eyebrows raised high in shock.

"What?" Her nose was scrunched up, with confusion written all over her face.

"You're not going to argue? Maybe put up a fight or pester me until I tell you?"

"Nah." Andy closed her eyes briefly and shook her head before making eye contact with him. "For once, I think I'm just going to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride."

"It could be a lengthy trip," Sam cautioned. "Are you sure you're up for the long haul?"

He watched a myriad of emotions play across her face. He knew that she was no doubt analyzing his words, and wondering whether or not he meant the words as deeply as she was interpreting them. After a moment, she straightened her spine and looked him straight in the eye.

"Absolutely," she replied, without a hint of doubt in her voice.

Sam glanced over at her in awe. He was fairly certain that he didn't deserve her trust, at least not yet, but he was sure that he'd be damned if he was going to let her down ever again.

"Andy," he called as he put the truck in drive. He narrowed his eyes a bit, and tried to convey that he knew exactly what he was saying and meant every word, especially what he was about to say next. "It might take a while to get there, but I promise: it'll be worth it."

They shared what Sam hoped was a meaningful look. She nodded just slightly and smiled at him. She got it. Sam swore he saw a hint of color rise to her cheeks before she looked down and began to press the console for the radio controls. He checked his mirrors and couldn't help but smile as he pulled out of the parking spot. Just like that, they were on their way.

* * *

The drive went quicker and more smoothly than Sam had anticipated. They passed the time joking, laughing and ribbing each other over music preferences. It felt familiar and fun and…right.

Andy lasted nearly the whole trip before trying to figure out where they were headed. To her credit, they had been on the road for a while, and even though he saw her curious glances at the road signs, she held off until they neared the border.

"Why are we headed for the boarder?" she finally asked.

"Do you know what today is?"

"Of course, it's Thursday, July 4th." He could tell the moment the light bulb went off. "Oh," she gasped, putting the pieces together. "You're taking me to see the light show?" she guessed, surprise beaming from her face.

"I just figured since you had to work the other night…" Sam shrugged. "We don't have to…"

"Uh, yeah we do!" Andy declared. "Sam, I love watching the fireworks. There's just something so amazing about them. They're colorful and unusual and each one is exceptional. It's just kind of magical to watch them, knowing that they represent something worth celebrating, you know?" She peeked up at him, looking sort of embarrassed. "Sorry," she laughed.

"Don't be." Sam smiled at her. "I think I know what you mean."

A few quiet moments passed; Andy seemed to be lost in thought. Just as Sam was about to ask what was on her mind, she broke the silence.

"I never really got why they call it 'Independence Day'," Andy mused. "I mean… I know _why_- because they broke away from persecution and all- it's just… I don't know. I always found the word 'independent' to be synonymous with 'alone', and the day is less about standing alone, and more about them figuring out what they wanted and finding people that wanted the same things. They made it happen and didn't let anything stand in their way, no matter what it took, you know?"

Sam had to laugh. "Are you going all 'Patriot' on me now, McNally?" Sam joked. "What would you call it – 'Go Get 'Em Day'?"

"How about: 'Pulling Their Heads Out of Their Asses Day'?" Andy shot back, arching an eyebrow his way. "No, I guess 'Independence Day' works well; it's just all about how you choose to look at it, I guess."

Sam pulled over and cut the ignition. "We're here," he announced, pointing out toward a strip near the water that divided the countries.

* * *

As soon as Sam parked, Andy jumped out and immediately began to scan the somewhat crowded area for a place to sit. Sam had a better idea. He grabbed her hand and led her around to the back of the truck, using his free hand to release the tailgate. They both climbed up and settled in on their backs, side by side.

Sam couldn't tell how much time had passed, nor did he care. Over whatever length of time, they'd gotten closer. His hand had found its way into her hair, caressing it, and somehow, Andy had wound up snuggled into the crook of his arm, fitting up against him like she belonged there, a piece of him that had been missing for the past year.

He found himself watching Andy rather than the sky. Suddenly, it made sense; he knew why he wanted to be there so badly. There _was_ something magical about them; they were explosive and unpredictable, dangerous and irresistible, graceful and amazing and so… _worth it_. Looking at Andy, he gained a newfound appreciation for something so animated and brilliant and unique, something with a transience that makes you want to hold onto it that much tighter, for that much longer.

"This is amazing, isn't it?" she asked, interrupting his reverie.

"Absolutely beautiful," Sam agreed, never taking his eyes off of her.

As if she could feel him staring down at her, Andy shifted and looked up at him. Her eyes softened immediately under his gaze, and her lips parted slightly when she looked down to his. Sam watched her tongue peak out to touch her bottom lip and he felt the stutter in her breath before her eyes flicked back up to his. He leaned into her slowly, and she closed her eyes as he drew closer. He felt her fingers twitch against his abdomen and he suddenly became hyper aware of how close they really were. Their lips met tentatively at first. Softly, just barely touching.

The instant that they touched, an undeniable, unexplainable spark ignited something inside of him. An electric current that was uniquely _them_, had everything inside of him instantly coming back alive. It wasn't that the world and their relationship magically made sense or anything, but somehow, he felt whole again.

Sam didn't deepen the kiss; he simply pressed his lips more firmly against hers, squeezed his eyes closed even more tightly, and just took a moment to revel in the sensations. It felt like home. It felt like passion and stability, madness and security all wrapped up in one. In her. In them, together.

When he felt her exhale, he finally let himself do the same.

"You feel that?" she whispered quietly against his lips. It was more of a statement than a question, but he nodded anyway, to assure her.

She felt it too. She felt the same. Sam smiled bigger than he had in a long time.

"Fireworks," he surmised.

She nodded and tightened her grip on his hair, gently guiding his mouth back to hers.

Yeah, he felt it.

And with her, he suspected that he always would.


End file.
